


Bruised Knuckles

by peridoll



Series: Lapidot AU Week [3]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 17:51:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15611703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peridoll/pseuds/peridoll
Summary: Lapidot Week Prompt 3; Demons/Angels/Supernatural. Peridot photographs a beautifully angelic stranger with bruised knuckles.





	Bruised Knuckles

**Author's Note:**

> Little late on this one, but this idea came to me during work today so I scrapped the idea I was gonna do (werewolf!Peridot) and did this instead. Inspired partially by this post: http://peridoll.tumblr.com/post/176534142722/powerssuggestion-modern-angels-angels-smoking

Peridot clutched her Nikon camera close to her chest as she steered through the annoying crowd gathered at the door. With tiny ‘excuse me’s and ‘trying to get through’s, she finally made it to the outside world. After a long three hour studio class, it felt good to suck in a lungful of fresh air. That day’s class was meant for organizing portfolios, gathering up photographs, picking out their favorites, but Peridot had gone to class with… virtually nothing. A couple nice crowd shots and one or two bird photos, but besides that, she had nothing to show for the last month of work. It made her feel like shit. Embarrassment had boiled on her cheeks as she admitted this fact to her professor, though he calmly patted her shoulder and told her that her inspiration would come in due time.

Mr. DeMayo had always been her favorite. 

He had given her a special assignment. “Focus on what draws you in,” he said, “Go to where your heart leads you. If you see something you like, just take a picture of it! You have so much space on that nifty camera, you might as well use it up, right?” He was painfully right. 

Photography was a new and exhilarating hobby of Peridot’s. She had picked it up the previous Christmas, when her mother gifted her the new camera. As a child, she had always enjoyed art, and even went through a preliminary phase of being a young photographer, even won a school contest for Best Photograph. But was it really meant to be? The shutter button felt more like the trigger to a gun. For some reason, every time she compressed it her heart leaped in terror. Was it her nagging perfectionism? Fear of disappointing? Both? 

Peridot juggled her assignment in her brain like a hot potato. Nothing seemed to call to her like Mr. DeMayo insinuated it would. She simply had no muse, no motivation, no drive… A camera like that would sell for some good money, right?

Head hanging in defeat, Peridot adjusted the lace-trimmed black scarf wrapped around her head. It was worth one final shot. But she wouldn’t be going to another class empty-handed. She’d rather drop the course then humiliate herself again. And never in her 21 years of living had she ever dropped a class. The thought made her sick.

The sun still peeked over the looming buildings of the city, reflecting rainbows through the large glass library windows across the street. Peridot stopped, snapped a picture, and continued on. A chihuahua posed majestically on the arm of a bench.  _ Click. _ The bus drove by, stirring up a storm of pink petals.  _ Click _ . 

The photographer wandered aimlessly. The city, though not too big, still seemed like a maze compared to the dirt country roads of home. Luckily she had found a student apartment building just down the block from her college, and shared the space with two other art students. She only knew the immediate area, and hadn’t dared to explore outside of that since arriving two months prior. She supposed it was time to hop out of the nest.

The city’s design was gridlike in structure, incredibly easy for a newbie to navigate. Streets crossed evenly at every few blocks, and major street signs were clearly marked. There were other signs, as well, directing to the shopping district, art district, and museums. She followed them, though didn’t allow them to fully set her course. ‘ _ Follow your heart, follow your heart… _ ’

The sidewalk narrowed as she descended down a surprisingly steep hill, and she strolled through what seemed like a small neighborhood of apartments, before the road leveled back out. Buildings here were bright red brick, old-fashioned and harkening back to the city’s history. Alleyways snaked between each store or restaurant, tight and dark. One, though, opened up to a well-lit walkway, lined with colorfully painted cobblestone along the ground and graffiti decorating the walls. Curious, Peridot tentatively roamed down the alley.

The alley led to the next street over, and unfortunately, she wasn’t alone. Someone lingered at the corner. Peridot chewed on her lip, gripping her camera in her sweaty palms. ‘ _ Just do it, nobody’s gonna care,’  _ she egged herself on, before taking a deep breath and letting it all go. 

The brick walls had been painted in so much art, some flashy and cartoony and others like beautiful watercolor portraits. She gawked at them through her viewfinder. Click after click, she captured the works of art, sometimes bending down and tilting her camera to get better angles. She pulled back, however, when someone stepped into the frame. She glanced over her lens, cracking a panicked smile. “Uh, can I help you?”

The stranger posed dramatically in front of the graffiti, extending a long, slender arm into the air. That hand was wrapped up in gauze. She paused, and turned to face Peridot fully. “Sorry, I thought you’d appreciate a model.” Peridot stared blankly. The girl wore a long, flowy blue dress and clunky combat boots, similar to her own. Her dark hair spiked outward from the nape of her neck, the sides framing her slim face. Dark blue eyeshadow was smudged under her eyes, as if she had been crying, or sleeping on a pillow face down. It made her appear exhausted, but in a strange way that made Peridot’s heart skip. She wore leather cuffs on both wrists and a matching leather choker. And as she moved her hands up to her face to pose again, Peridot noticed her knuckles were bruised.

“Um…” Peridot stammered, shifting nervously on her feet. “I guess… if you’re offering? I’m doing some homework right now.” She ducked back behind her camera, tuning the focus on her lens and zooming in on the girl’s hands cupping her own face. 

“Oh, so you’re an art student?” the stranger moved along the wall to other pieces of graffiti, and Peridot followed her obediently. Her voice was raspy and worn out, matching her seemingly beaten up exterior well. 

“Yeah, I am,” Peridot answered shortly, too concentrated on composing her photos. She crouched as the stranger hugged herself, curving her body and tossing her head back in a beautifully tragic pose. The photographer stopped to look at the girl straight on. “Wow, have you done this before?”

“Maybe,” she teased, moving on to the next art piece. It was a pair of angel wings, taking up the entire wall, with just enough space in between them for someone to stand. The stranger did so, straining her head to the side and stretching her arms upwards. Taking it as a cue, Peridot hurriedly went back to taking photos.  _ Click, click, click, _ one by one Peridot seized the stranger’s alluring beauty, as she floated from one ethereal pose to the next with practiced ease. The gears in Peridot’s mind churned. She wanted to catch every last movement, every little glance towards or away from the camera, every detail on the girl’s cascading dress. Her trigger finger itched.

“Hey,” the stranger started, “want a really nice photoshoot area?” She raised a thin eyebrow, and Peridot hesitantly met her eye. “Follow me.” She grabbed the photographer’s hand, and raced off out of the graffiti alleyway. Peridot barely had time to react, or answer, or agree. She simply followed without a fight, drawn in by temptation. Was  _ this  _ what Mr. DeMayo was talking about? This mesmerizing feeling tugging at her heartstrings? Peridot’s soft fingertips brushed against the stranger’s bruised knuckles as she clasped her hand in return.

By the time they arrived to the area, Peridot was out of breath. She squatted for a moment, regaining her composure, before pushing her glasses back onto her face correctly.

The stranger brought her to the side of a bridge, the mighty river roaring below them. It was like a balcony, circular in shape with a plain wooden park bench off to one side. On the ground was an intricate pattern made of different colored bricks, like a mandala of blues and greens. Three metal railings widely spaced apart on top of each other was all that separated them from the long drop into the angry water. 

The stranger was already climbing the railings, and perched on the top one. The sun was beginning to set just behind her, the last rays of light casting her in a dusty pink.

“Hey, be careful!” Peridot warned, though the danger electrified her. “What, do you have a death wish?!” It was then, and only then, did she realize she didn’t even know this girl’s name. 

“Oh, don’t worry, I’m fine up here.” She sat parallel with the railings, gripping the pole with both hands and stretching herself out.  _ Click _ . “By the way, you can call me Lapis,” the girl introduced without warning, as if she had read Peridot’s mind. It sent a shiver down her spine.

“Peridot,” the photographer greeted back, not bothering to look up from her viewfinder. A gust of wind blew through their clearing, sending Lapis’s dress drifting into the air.  _ Click _ . She danced about, changing from pose to pose once again with stunning grace. In one, she gazed deeply into the lens, in another she held herself tenderly, legs intertwined in the railings, and another she kissed her own bruised knuckles.  _ Click, click, click.  _ Like a hungry animal, Peridot captured each pose. 

Time flew by, and before she knew it the sun had fully set, leaving the duo in the glow of a nearby street lamp and the full moon. Lapis’s dark hair glimmered in the moonlight. 

“Well, my camera’s not great in the dark… But I think I got some good pictures. Did you want to see?” Lapis sprung from her spot on top of the railings and glided to Peridot’s side. 

“Hm… nah. Keep it a surprise.” She winked, blue eyes somehow staying so bright despite the settling darkness. A glare hit Peridot’s glasses, blinding her for a moment with a strange white light. 

“Alright, fine. I hope it’s okay for me to use these, by the way.” Peridot locked the cap onto the lens and tucked the camera under her armpit, her scarf luckily protecting her neck from the scratchy strap. 

“Be my guest,” Lapis replied in her hoarse voice. Now that Peridot wasn’t taken over by the insatiable need to photograph the stranger, she could think straight. Her eyes trailed down to the girl’s wrists, bound by the leather bracelets, and her battered hands.

“Are you okay, by the way? What happen-” 

Suddenly Peridot found herself swept off her feet, one of Lapis’s hands on her waist and the other squeezing Peridot’s palm. Her touch chilled Peridot’s skin.

“Wanna dance?” Lapis cooed, dipping the photographer before tugging her back up and spinning her around. 

“I should go home-” Lapis guided her along, waltzing around in circles on the patterned cobblestone. The girl laughed, slipping a hand up to caress Peridot’s scrunched face. 

“C’mon, your biggest issue is your fear. Just let yourself relax and have fun for once, not everything has to be so serious.”

Peridot huffed, feeling her competitive spirit bubble in her chest. She closely followed Lapis’s dance steps, catching onto the waltz quickly. “Who are you now, my therapist?” This elicited a snort from the stranger. 

“Yes, and I’m here to tell you that you’ll be fine.” It was meant to be a joke, she could tell by the way Lapis’s lips curled into a cheeky smile, but her words struck her heart like a knife. Her feet stumbled, and she fell into the girl, who caught her gracefully. The photographer righted herself, knees like jelly as she struggled to stand. “Whoa there, buckaroo. Careful.”

“Fuck- sorry, I don’t dance,” Peridot replied swiftly, releasing her grip on the front of Lapis’s dress. But Lapis held onto her elbows, making sure she stayed steady.

“It seems like you do to me, you were keeping up pretty well.” The girl slid her calloused fingertips down Peridot’s forearms, goosebumps forming in her wake, before interlacing their fingers. Peridot’s heart thumped against her ribcage, threatening to break free, as Lapis’s face lingered dangerously close, ocean blue eyes staring straight through her. All of Peridot’s fear melted away like wax off of her back, stripping away layers of doubt and anxiety. Her shoulders drooped, relieving pressure from her aching neck. Lapis radiated an angelic halo of light, and the longer they stood there, the more it enveloped the photographer as well. Peridot stared back in dead silence.

Lapis’s eyes drifted abruptly over the photographer’s shoulder to look at something unseen, and their comforting tangle of fingers loosened. The girl smiled softly, such a drastic contrast from her sharp chin and cheekbones and harsh eyeshadow. “I have to go,” she whispered, leaning in close and planting a warm kiss on Peridot’s cheek. Their hands dropped in unison, and her entire body felt weighed down. Lapis backed away slowly, climbing through the spaces of the railings and standing on the outside edge. She stretched her arms out, and allowed herself to plummet into open air.

Peridot’s stomach dropped, and she bolted to the railings. “ _ Lapis!”  _ she shouted down to the thundering river, but the girl was already gone. “ _ Lapis, no! _ ” She staggered backwards, blood running hot enough to blister her skin, as she covered her eyes, as if that would wipe away the horrid scene. Two bursts of wind brushed by her on either side, bringing about an abrupt uncanny calm. She peeked through her fingers, and glanced around the area. “

 

Where… am I?” 

 

Peridot shuffled all the way back to her apartment, mind whirling at a hundred miles per hour. Mindlessly, she settled into bed with her laptop and plugged in the SD card from her camera. As the photos uploaded onto the desktop, she rubbed her tired face. What had she done after class again? Gone to lunch? Taken a couple street pictures? She couldn’t recall.

She flipped through the pictures she had taken that day, one of a rainbow reflected on the sidewalk, another of a cute chihuahua, another of a whirlwind of flower petals… Then one of a girl, posing in front of graffiti art. Peridot squinted. That wasn’t one of her friends from class, or one of her roommates. That was a complete stranger. She hadn’t photographed anybody, or at least that she could remember. There were more of the girl, a seemingly endless amount. More than two hundred. One of her splayed out in front of a pair of angel wings. Undeniably, she looked like a real angel. More of her leaning over a railing. A close up of her face, framed by her hands. Her knuckles were bruised.

Peridot had zero recollection of the girl or their apparent photoshoot, and it made her heart beat fast. She racked her brain, but no memories came to her. But she couldn’t stop staring at the stranger’s face, messy eyeshadow, and deep blue eyes. Her alluring beauty captured Peridot. 

 

What had happened to the girl? She was left to wonder, and fell asleep with images of the stranger flashing in her mind. 

 

Her knuckles were bruised.


End file.
